


E is for Exploration

by sapphirebluerubyredroses



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: I'm only slightly sorry for this nonsense, Military, Multi, Navy, just the sailor life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirebluerubyredroses/pseuds/sapphirebluerubyredroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After everything that happened with Glendower and the ley line hunt, the Raven Boys and Blue needed to leave Henrietta and everything else behind to recuperate. Several years later, they find themselves in the Navy all on the same ship for deployment, going on another hunt for the impossible.</p><p>*on hiatus for rewrite*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm posting this because I want to actually get rolling on this story and posting something always gives me a sense of urgency, though the updates will be monthly or every month and a half. Just warning you now.

Blue:

Blue shuffled from one foot to the other, staring around that the loose arc of green and red and brown jerseys standing in position for their approaching helicopter. She twisted her watch, slick with sweat, around her wrist, pulling it back into position with the watch face on the inside of her wrist. Sweat slipped down her back in one long line, pooling in the small of her back. It had already soaked through not only her undershirt, but her jersey and waist of her pants. She was thoroughly convinced that it was making a valiant attempt to soak through her float coat as well.

They were in the middle of the Pacific somewhere, and somehow it was a hundred and something fucking degrees on the flight deck. Why was is so ungodly hot at midnight? There was no rhyme nor reason, especially since the jets had completed their flight schedule more than an hour beforehand.

The boat rocked sharply, rolling to eclipse the horizon from every side.

' _Watch out in all port catwalks. Landing helo 814 on spot 4. Landing helo, spot 4._ '

The chop of the rotor blades broke the still night air, and the flashing red of the position lights cut across the black of the night sky. The helicopter's silhouette materialized out of the darkness. Directed by the set of wands held by one of her brand new LSE's, the bird listed over the flight deck, hovering for a moment before beginning it's decent.

Out of the corner of her eye, Blue spotted a flash of olive green, the color of the aircrew and officer flight suits. On instinct, she latched her hand onto the back of their collar, throwing them to the flight deck. "What is wrong with you? What do you think you're doing?" she screeched, staring down at the officer catching his breath from the nonskid. He rubbed at the back of his head, his fingers coming away with something sticky and black beneath the blue lights.

"Why did you throw me?" he groaned. His gloves were torn, the leather bloodied.

"Why?" she shouted so high that her voice disappeared as her brain tried to find the words and means to comprehend this man's sheer stupidity. "You do not go running into my rotor arc while my helo is landing! Do you see that tail rotor and that rotor head? You could have died because you were headed right for them! Not only that, you have have just been blown off the flight deck! How's that for a man overboard!"

"I was simply trying to get to a ladder," he explained, still rubbing at the back of his head. His fingers curled in his hair, his face tightening in pain.

"Then go around! You do not try to dart under a helicopter while it's landing! You wait like ever other person! How stupid can you possibly be?" Everything around them had paused. It felt as if all eyes were on them. Forcing out a deep breath and at least the spitting part of her anger with it, she offered the pilot a hand. "Are you alright? Do I need to take you to medical?"

"Quite possibly," he gritted out, taking her hand and allowing himself to be dragged to his feet. He wobbled, not releasing her hand. "I think you may have given me a concussion." Gingerly, he stood straight, finally looking at her.

This time, the world sped away around them, and they stood still. It was as if they were teenagers again, trying to navigate ley lines and treasure hunters and dead kings and predictions about kissing.

"Gansey," she whispered, tightening her fingers around his, "I... never thought I'd see you again."

A smile spread across his face though pained as it was. "Looks like fate had other ideas despite the fact that you've already killed and saved me once."

Blue's surprised eyes dropped, narrowing to irritation. "You still haven't changed."

"Actually," Gansey began, but his eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped back to the deck.

Ronan:

"Dude, did you hear about that tiny second class who pinned an officer to the flight deck today? She gave him a concussion!"

Ronan remained silent, gnawing on the lollipop stuck in his mouth as he typed through the MAF he was finishing with ill contained contempt, signing it off as he bit through the candy shell. "No, why do I care?"

"Because it was fucking crazy! She just grabbed him by the collar and threw him down like he weighed nothing! I would let her throw me down any day."

Spinning to face his airman, he rolled his eyes, then paused, remembering a feisty girl from his teenage years. "Sounds like someone I used to know."

His airman blinked at him. "Who do you know that is a female under five feet and could take you in a fight?"

"A cursed girl who killed my best friend because she loved him and brought him back for the same reason. Also, she couldn't take me. I was the one who taught her to fight."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It's not supposed to, to your puny brain." Ignoring the airman's indignant cry, he ran over Blue's and Gansey's and Noah's faces in his mind. Something about the second class needled him. He needed more information. Well, in reality, he nodded to stock back up on lollipops, and he had just the person to go to for both. "I'll be back. I'm going to talk to the other Lynch-Parrish. I'm in the head if Chief asks."

The airman scoffed. "You mean you're getting head if Chief asks. Seriously, how did you manage to get stationed on the same boat as your spouse? Aren't there rules against that?"

"I'll never tell."

"You sucked someone's dick."

"I slept with a woman."

"That is a dirty lie, and I know it!"

Adam:

"Blue is on this ship."

Adam paused in his work, sitting back against his heels and wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. "Well, hello. My day is going just fine. Thank you for asking, Ronan," he said cheekily, suppressing the shudder that tapped up his spine. It was a common occurrence, this far out from land, especially in Ronan's vicinity. Cabeswater couldn't reach him as easily, and he can't help Cabeswater even if it could.

Dropping down beside him, Ronan pressed a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. "You're lying if you're saying your day is going fine. A day on the boat is never 'just fine'."

"Maybe not for you with your hard won green shirt, but I've never known the struggle of the brown jersey. We didn't have that much today, but even so, those alerts have murdered our work force."

Ronan clamped his hands down on his ankles, leaning forward on locked elbows. "You're telling me. We have a FDC, a CDI doubling as an LSE, and three 'chocks and chain'ers. My guys haven't been able to do jack shit all day. No eating. No resting. Pissing off the catwalk."

"Are you the CDI-LSE duo?"

"Yes."

Adam nodded, glancing down at the exhaust assembly he was putting back together. His hands were black with exhaust, and sweat had guided it down his arms to soak into his jersey cuffs. He wiped at his forehead again, looking at Ronan. "So, you think Blue is on the boat."

"I'm nearly certain she is, the little maggot, not keeping us updated and shit."

"To be fair, we didn't keep her updated either. We didn't tell her about this." He held his hand up, pointing at the silver and onyx ring encircling his ring finger.

Ronan took his hand gently, muttering, "That's FOD," even as he pressed his lips softly to its warm surface.

Adam allowed this for a long moment before continuing. "Why do you think Blue is on this ship? The Navy is not that small."

"No, but the aviation side is."

Blinking, Adam simply waited for him to continue.

"She threw some officer to the flight deck earlier today. Gave him a concussion."

A snort of laughter burst from Adam. "Didn't she do that to you when you were teaching her?" Ronan simply glowered at him. "I'll ask around. What squadron is she with?"

Ronan's mouth popped open with an answer, but no sound left.

"You didn't ask, did you?"

He looked mortified, but didn't deny the fact. "I know it's a helo squadron though."

Adam pursed his lips, staring at him until Ronan realized his mistake. Before he could conjure up a derogatory retort, he said, "I'll look into it. Someone will know what squadron she came from. An enlisted giving an officer a concussion? That will have spread like wild fire."

Gansey:

Gansey woke to a splitting headache and a cold press being reapplied to his forehead. Blinking into the overhead fluorescent, he groaned, closing his eyes tightly against the intrusion. Dragging up a hand, he placed it over his face.

"Gansey, don't go back to sleep and don't make any sudden movements. You have a concussion, and I will not be picking you up off the floor again. I've had the pleasure of doing that one too many times in this lifetime for my taste."

Turning his head towards the voice, he squinted through the slits of his fingers, limiting the amount of light filtering to him. "You gave me a concussion?" The hint of laughter in his voice had her frowning irritably.

"It's your own fault for not wearing your cranial. Why didn't you have it on? Flight operations were still going on. They have impact shields for a reason."

"I didn't realize your bird was returning. I was checking on my colleagues one last time before I transfer to HSC-14 when you guys landed."

Blue blinked at him slowly. "You're a jet guy, aren't you." Her tone was as flat as the moonless sky. It wasn't a question. Judgment was the only thing that could be heard in her tone.

"I've flown jets, yes. And I've had the pleasure of flying a helicopter once or twice. And yes, it is true that I prefer jets to helicopters."

Staring down at her hands as she chaffed them against one another, trying in vain to rub away the blackness that seemed to have permanently stained her skin, she asked, "Then why are you transferring into my squadron? I'm sure there are plenty of jet squadrons or even the prop squadrons biting at the bit to secure Mr. Richard Campbell Gansey III in their grasp."

Gansey closed the gap between his fingers, furrowing his brows. "There is something that I am looking for. After I found Glendower, I was challenged to find another impossible thing about a year ago."

"You're not Ronan. That shouldn't have fazed you."

"Well, after what happened when we found Glendower, I seem to have less control over my impulses. It seems that you were at least forty percent of my impulse control." He breathed out a long, heavy breath. "There were things said by my challenger that I need to discredit. And what I am looking for has been searched for for centuries by every manner of person."

Learning forward, arms crossed on the edge of Gansey's cot and her interest piqued, Blue started, "What does that have to do with my squadron, Gansey? I don't want you crashing my helicopter, and I distinctly remember your sister telling me once that you are shit at flying helicopters."

A wry smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "I've gotten largely better. I need to be able to look from the air, like we did with the ley lines, and I can only get low enough to do that from a helicopter. Not only that, but in the coming weeks, your squadron has terfs planned for every other day, giving me the chance I need to search before we make port. Then, I would hope you'd assist me in my most recent search."

Forcing down her grin, Blue asked, "What kind of question is that?"

Noah:

Noah quickly and silently closed the door to one of the many hidden spaces on the ship, trying his best to block out the sounds of pleasure coming from the darkened room. A loud moan cut through his concentration, and he bolted up the stairs, taking them as quietly and quickly as he possibly could. Few people knew of the space and even fewer regularly visited it, but when they did, it was usually in pairs to conduct the activities most prohibited from the ship. That was the first time he'd stumbled across anyone in his search for solitude though, and the trauma would be everlasting.

Shaking his head, he climbed to the second deck before slowing down. Palming the can of soda he'd shoved in his pocket, he glanced down at his watch. He'd been missing from his shop for a total of two hours. It was a long moment, but they never usually noticed when he was gone. Not much had changed since Glendower had given him his life back. He was still a ghost, easy to miss until you didn't, easy to forget until he did something unforgettable.

Two men in brown jerseys passed him, their heads inclined as they whispered quickly. "Yeah, heard she kicked out his knees and flung him to the ground before straddling him and slamming his head into the ground. Can you believe that? She was a second class and the guy was like an aircrew chief or something. She's totally going for mass for that shit. I hope it's an open mass because I want to get a look at her."

The second man shook his head vigorously. "Dude, no she won't. She was keeping him from getting himself killed. Walking into a rotor arc is like the equivalent of walking across the flight deck during recovery."

"I don't think it's quite the same thing..." the first man said haughtily, arrogance saturating his voice.

The second man narrowed his eyes at the first. "We are not fucking getting into this again. If you start something, I will fuc-" They slammed a hatch closed, cutting off their voices.

Noah frowned slightly, staring after them. He usually didn't listen to ship gossip, there was no point to it, but something about this specific rumor...

Slipping into the passage at his elbow, he bolted up the stairs, taking steps two at a time to get to his shop.


	2. Chapter 2

Gansey:

Gansey closed his eyes as he listened to the supervisor of his new division call out, "Hey, shut the fuck up! You're supposed to be listening to passdown! Since you weren't paying attention in the first place, maybe you'll pay attention to your new Divo?" He paused, letting that sink in. The shop erupted in protest, and Gansey could only smile. "Oh, stop your bitching. That's not going to change anything. Your new Divo comes from some town in Virginia or West Virginia or something of the such, just like your wonderful night check sup who incidentally slammed him into the flight deck. His head is fine now, so, give him your actually undivided attention, and welcome Mr. Gansey to the Line Shack."

Groans rang from the compartment he stood outside of. They were silenced as he entered the room, his politician's smile as Ronan liked to put it firmly in place. The few females in the room had expressions of surprise and appreciation pushing their eyebrows towards their hairlines. The boys, the majority of the group, had looks like they had raging boners going on, on their faces.

He scanned over the group quickly, his smile widening. "Good afternoon, everyone. I trust the boat isn't treating you too terribly?" Finishing his sweep of the room, his eyes caught on Blue looking at him over her shoulder. It took all he was worth to tear his eyes from hers, and even still, he couldn't help glancing at her every few moments. "My name is Richard Gansey. I'm a Lieutenant, as I'm sure you can all clearly see. I'm from Henrietta, Virginia, as AE1 has already told you." He paused, running through the checklist of things he'd been meaning to tell them. "I was just transferred over from VFA-68. I was the Line Divo there as well, so I hope to see exactly how different things are run for a helo squadron. I'll be here often to get PC training and to learn the rotary wing ways."

Blue rolled her eyes, turning from whatever paperwork she'd been working on to give him her full attention.

Swallowing, he looked back over to AE1. "I think that's all I've got for now."

Shrugging, the first class started again. "There you have it. Mr. Gansey in a nutshell. Any questions before he leaves?"

The question was out of an airman's mouth before AE1 had finished speaking."Are you related to President Gansey?"

He sighed inwardly. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that question would be asked. "She is my mother."

"Why did you join the Navy then if your mother is the President?"

Something stirred within him. That same feeling he used to get when he thought of his search for Glendower. The excitement, the need, the yearning for more knowledge. Blue watched him closely, her eyes telling him not to go into detail. She knew he would if she'd let him.

Dragging back down the urge to tell the story of his search, he simply said, "I'm looking for something. Well, something else now. I originally joined because I was looking for someone, but I've found that person recently, so it's only a _something_ now."

The group crowed. Blue's eyes sparkled with hope. He could only reassure her with a smile.

"So, this _something_ , is it like when you found the tomb of the Welsh king Glendower?"

Giddy surprise grew in his stomach. He hadn't expected anyone to know of that particular find, and from Blue's face, she hadn't known they had known either. They glanced at each other. With a growing smile, Gansey said, "Yes."

As the word left his mouth, a voice called over the 1MC. "Watch out in all starboard catwalks, landing helo 623. Starboard catwalks, helo 623. Launch the alert 30, SAR, side number 619. Launch the alert 30, SAR, side number 619."

The shop exploded into action. Gansey jumped aside as Blue tore passed him, her coworkers close on her heels.

Blue:

Bolting down the passage, calling "Make a hole!" as she hurtled over door stops, Blue shoulder checked a green shirt bolting the opposite way. She flinched as the audible crack rang through her ears and pain shot across her shoulder.

There was a flash of sunlight dotted shadow beneath dappled green leaves across her vision. The whisper of Latin on the wind drowned out every other sound around her. Summer was thick in her nose, and fruit sweet on her tongue as fingers traced simple, scorching patterns across her skin.

She nearly stumbled to a halt in the middle of the passage way, but instead, she gritted her teeth. She pushed off the ground harder, tearing open the hatch to the catwalk and scrambling towards the spot, blinking away the memory. "Chocks and chains! Brownies, maintainers, someone, get me chocks and chains! Now!" she shouted, but her voice dipped away into silence as she spotted a silhouette she knew almost as well as Gansey's.

Stopping in her tracks, she watched as he landed her helo, pausing as he waited for the chainers to show up. Waiting for a lull in his hand signals, Blue shot forward, wrapping her arms around his middle.

His head whipped around, a snarl on his lips. "What the fu-"

"You didn't tell me you were on this ship, asshole!" she shouted, cutting off Ronan's curse with one of her own. "When did you get here?" Jerking away from him with a remembrance of professionalism, she held her hands out for his wands. "Give me those. This isn't your aircraft, and you have one you need to be launching right now."

Keeping his eyes on the pilots, he passed her command with sharp, precise movements. "I think a 'thank you' is in order. I did just catch your bird. And what do you mean 'how long'? I came to pick your sorry asses up."

"So this is your first command?"

"Yes. First command. First deployment."

She rolled that around her mind for a moment, wondering silently if she should tell him about Gansey, but he was already walking away, his mic pressed close to his mouth as he muttered quickly, his hand cupped over the small piece. "Ronan!" He stopped, turning back to face her with an irate scowl. "Do you need my guys to help spread your bird?"

Glancing around him, he found none of his squadron on deck and a move crew already hooking up to the back of his aircraft. His snarl returning, he nodded. "Yes, I'm going to need help until my guys get here. They're slower than Noah and a math problem."

Nodding, she thrust a wand towards the closest green shirt to her. "Go help him. Take everyone with you. Leave a pair of chocks and chains. I've got this bird. If they launch our alert, then leave."

The green jersey nodded sharply, turning and dragging his coworkers towards Ronan's aircraft. Grudgingly, Ronan nodded towards her before swinging up into the cockpit.

Ronan:

' _Raven PC to 617 for fuel._ '

Rolling his eyes hard enough to hurt, Ronan snatched up the radio. "Raven copies. 617 for fuel." Turning as he finished, he growled. The rest of his shop was either working on the wash or eating. He shrugged into his float coat, shoving his gloves into his side cargo pocket and forcing the radio into his ass pocket. It had been a few months since they'd gotten on the boat, and the radio barely fit now, but he wasn't complaining. He never would if Adam kept grabbing his ass every time they passed in the passageways.

He loped up the stairs to the flight deck, taking long strides towards spot 6. As he walked, he glanced up towards the sky where the moon shone so brightly that she eclipsed near half of the stars in the sky, the rest gleaming feebly beside her.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the purple jersey asked, his arms hanging loose at his sides as if he wasn't sure where his hands were supposed to go. "It's why I don't mind being on nights for the most part." He turned to the aircraft, bending to heft the fuel nozzle into his hip. "Do you have a start load?"

Turning his eyes back from the sky as not to trip over the treacherous chains that were just waiting to take his legs out at the knees, he muttered, "500." He popped open the compartment door, twisting off the fuel cap.

The fuelie nodded and attached the hose, turning to another purple jersey lounging against the combing. "500," he called, turning two fingers in a circle. The other disappeared, leaving the pair to stand and observe the stars. "How long have you been on nights? I just started about two weeks ago."

Ronan grunted, never one for conversation. "I like it better when there is no moon."

The purple jersey's voice dropped. "That's because you're creepy."

"Fuck you, man," Ronan snapped, "At least I'm not the idiot wearing a purple float coat over a yellow jersey." He paused, staring at the mix of colors. "No, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?" For the first time, he realized that the fuelie hadn't shown him his face the entire time they'd been fueling. Frowning, he glared down at the shorter male.

The fuelie turned to look at him, his eyes half lidded and a smudge darkening his cheek. "I'm more qualified than you."

With only a moment to spare, Ronan dragged Noah into a bone crushing hug, rubbing his knuckles across the top of his head. "Someone is sassy for being brought back from the dead. Fuck you. Were you going to tell us you were on this ship?"

"You didn't tell me either."

"Not the point."

Adam:

Adam rested his head in his hands, taking a deep breath as he stared down at his tray. His stomach roiled, his shoulder ached, his head pounding as Cabeswater banged at the door to his mind. It was always louder, more insistent the more tired he became. Gritting his teeth, he pressed against his forehead.

"Adam? Adam Parrish?" he heard a familiar female voice ask.

The banging quieted, Cabeswater's many voices dropping to excited whispers. Slitting his eyes, he glanced up through his fingers to Blue's curious expression. Tray filled with food, she set her tray down across from him.

"When did you get married? You didn't tell me that you'd gotten married." Her tone was accusing, her glare sharpened to a finer point than when they'd parted ways two years before.

Sighing deeply, relief flushing his cheeks pink, he sat back in his chair, running a hand down his face. "It was a little hard to tell you when I didn't know where you were. You disappeared, Blue, you and Gansey and Noah. You all disappeared. Where did you go, Blue? How did you end up here, of all places?"

Guilt slipped across her expression. "I... I let myself get lost in Cabeswater. I couldn't be in Henrietta any longer, so much had happened. It pulled out my psychic abilities, helped me hone them. You wouldn't believe the adventures I had, Adam, guided by the trees and the trees alone. It was... beautiful." She stared down at her food, mixing cheese into her rice with an air of disinterest. " I wish I could have shared them with all of you. When it finally released me, only a month after I'd entered despite the years I'd spent there, I realized I had to get away. There was a recruiter, and I just... said yes." A sigh slipped between her lips, and she glanced back up at him. "I'm sorry I left you alone. I should have been there to support you and the others."

Adam stared back at his ring, rubbing gently at the shined surface. Blue watched his face closely, cataloging the softening there, the gentle smile, the easy happiness. "I wasn't alone. I had..." He paused, glancing up at her.

A grin cut across her mouth as the blush deepened against his cheeks with his embarrassment. "You had Ronan?" He nodded a reply. "I knew something would happen between the two of you, I didn't think it would be marriage, but I'm happy for you. Did you have a good wedding?"

Adam's mood soured. He could still remember the feel of Ronan's anger wafting over him, his own hatred bubbling deep in his core. "Not entirely. We ended up exchanging vows with a priest as our witness. My mother had found out somehow and told me she was disappointed. My father called us faggots. So, not really pleasant memories." He rubbed his hands against his pants wondering idly exactly how bad he smelled in his week old uniform. That would be something his mother would be disappointed in also. "Our honeymoon was amazing though."

Blue rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, you guys only left your room to get to the airport."

Adam couldn't help the smile that split across his lips. It held the breath of something she'd never seen in him. "Give us some credit. We got out about fifty percent of the time."

Their conversation wore on with them throwing friendly jabs at each other. Laughter filled the mid mess decks, and they continually filled their trays. Sitting back, wiping tears from beneath her eyes, Blue said, "I missed you guys."

Blinking his eyes clear, he asked, "Who else is here?"

Noah:

Sitting on the lip of a tractor, Noah kicked his legs gently, watching Blue as she braced her trainee. The brown jersey stumbled back with the down wash from their aircraft as it hovered over spot. She dragged him forward back onto his feet, pressing her arm into his back and her foot against his forward most foot.

A green jersey, his face strained with concentration, carried a full set of crutch polls passed, the eight feet of the four pairs tipping precariously as he jogged towards spot two. Sweat beaded down his jaw, his floatcoat stained a hunter green along the shoulders and back. Hefting the poles higher against his chest, he disappeared towards his helo, pausing only for a moment as Noah passed through his peripheral vision.

It was later, after Noah and his move crew had stacked each bird beside the other that Adam found him, back in the same spot he'd been while they'd all been shutting down their respective birds. Noah's cranial sat beside him, his bandanna tucked within the sweaty confines. The night breeze, picking up with the speed of the ship, ruffling his blond hair, plucking at the strands that stuck to his forehead. He raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"You're here too it seems," Adam said as way of greeting, standing awkwardly beside the tow tractor. He hadn't been invited to lean against it, and it was a point of pride among the aviation community that you did not touch someone else equipment/aircraft without the express permission of that squadron. Not only that, if something happened to that bird after you had laid your hands on it and it wasn't yours, there could be serious consequences.

Noah nodded, patting the space beside him as invitation. "Yes, and so is Ronan." Adam remained where he stood.

"And Gansey."

"And Blue. The whole gang back together again. It must be fate."

"Fate is very weighty to be throwing it around this late at night."

"Not for us."

They stared at each other silently for a long moment, considering the other. They hadn't left on good terms, none of them had really, but the two of them worse than the others. "Do the others know you're here?"

Noah shook his head. "Only Ronan so far. I fueled his bird earlier."

The only sound between them was that of the rushing wind, and the ocean lapping against the hull of the ship. Blue's voice raised in irritation and anger reminded them that they were, in fact, having a conversation. "Well, if fate thinks we should all be together again, who am I to deny it?" He turned his back on Noah, waving him forward to follow him towards the commotion.


	3. Chapter 3

Noah:

"Port! I definitely know we're pulling into port tomorrow. I have a good feeling!" Noah said happily, excitedly, throwing himself across Blue's lap as she was finishing up her paperwork. "I haven't been this excited about something since I found that snow globe full of glitter with Ronan."

Blue glanced down at him, registering that he was there, but not really seeing him. Her fingers continued to tap away at the key board even as her eyes remained on him. Jabbing at the enter button more times than necessary, she checked over what she'd been working on, presumably for mistakes, before turning her attention to him. "I don't think you're supposed to be down here. Don't you have an aircraft to go fuel or something? I'm sure _Lid_ really needs your help."

He narrowed his eyes, squinting at her. "That was mean. You know how many problems Lid gives us."

"Yes, well, this is my work center, and all of my chitlens are looking at us like we have three heads. Speaking of _chitlens_ , whoever is playing this crap better turn it off now, or I will confiscate all phones until the end of shift." The thrum of vulgar music that even Ronan would frown at immediately changed, turning dainty and instrumental. "Better." She smiled down at him in her lap. "And I've missed you, Noah, I really have, but I do have to ask, how did you get in here?"

Noah shrugged noncommittally, still lying across her lap. "I'm still a ghost. I never really came back." He plucked self-deprecatingly at the purple float coat he wore over his yellow jersey. "It's how I get away with this."

Blue smoothed his hair from his forehead before shooing him off of her lap, and standing. "I was wondering about that the other night. Let's take a walk, Noah." The boat rocked violently beneath them, unusual for such a large ship, and they stumbled against each other as they pushed into the passageway. They moved carefully towards the hatch leading to the catwalk, clutching at the bulkhead for purchase. "Have you talked to any of the others yet? We're all here."

"Just Adam and Ronan."

Grimacing, Blue shoved all of her weight against the hatch. It slammed open, ripped from her fingers by a wind fiercer than she'd felt so far as they stepped out. Jerseys streaked passed them, only a blur of color as they stood in the small alcove, sheltered from the absolute downpour. Lightning flashed against the pitch sky. "This is not good. The alert is going to get launched tonight," she murmured under her breath, then turning her attention back to him, "How did it go? With Adam?"

"Okay. He didn't punch me," Noah said emphatically, "He doesn't forgive me, obviously, but he didn't hit me. How do you know the alert is going to be launched?" He silently hoped the sudden switch in topic would startle the answer from her. If there was one thing he missed about being dead, it was the omnipresent knowledge he'd always seemed to have about his friends.

It did not, in fact, even phase her. She continued on as if he hadn't asked a question. "That's good. It's progress. I remember him after... well, after. We were all pretty messed up from it, but he was worse, what with everything that happened with Ronan." She watched the streaks of colors from running flight deck personnel with disinterest. "I just know, Noah. Nothing good ever follows a storm this bad."

Before he could respond, a voice roared over the 5MC. "The flight deck, catwalks, and weather decks are secured! All aircraft have been diverted to the beach! If your aircraft, equipment, and lives are not secured for heavy weather, there is no turning back now! The flight deck, catwalks, and weather decks are secured!"

Glancing at each other, they flitted back into the skin of the ship.

Ronan:

Ronan raked his nails over his scalp, all concentration fleeing him as he thought of Adam, bedridden with sea sickness and miserable beyond belief. He couldn't be there to help him, not when he had work to do, and alerts to set, and he really wished he had a second supervisor so he could pass everything off to them and simply be with Adam.

The storm still raged outside though, making it impossible to do anything with their aircraft on deck. So, maybe, just maybe, he could shove everything onto his most senior PC and disappear into Adam's compartment for the duration of the storm.

His trainees and PCs squealed happily as they rolled across the shop, their hands thrown above their heads as they crashed into each other. He scrabbled for the edge of the desk, determined to remain stationary. His attempts were in futile, and he went careening towards the opposite walls with all of the others. He crashed into them with a snarl. They laughed uproariously.

The phone began to ring.

"Whoever has the fucking phone, answer it!" Ronan shouted, pitching forward as he stood and the ship listed again. He was plowed over in the ensuing rush of rolling chairs, landing across the laps of his trainees. "Mother of everything under the sun," he snarled. They slammed into his desk, and he snatched for the phone as they began to roll again. "Raven power-line, Lynch-Parrish speaking, how may I help you sir or ma'am?" His voice was less than pleasant as he rattled off the command accepted greeting.

The silence of impatient waiting greeted his ears. Ronan waited with them. It took only a moment for the other participant to break. "What was wrong with that, Mr. Lynch?"

"I don't know, what was wrong with my greeting, Chief? Actually, what was wrong with yours, Chief?" Ronan spat insolently.

A slow intake of breath. A slower exhale. "This is what I get for being a little shit as a third," he muttered under his breath. "Fine, whatever, Lynch. There's nothing we can do until this storm passes. Just keep the line shack on hand in case they call for a working party. After the flight deck is unsecured, get started on a daily for 619."

"Sure thing, Chief." Turning to his shop, he called, "Chief says not to answer the phone for the rest of the night. We're not going to be able to do any more work." He turned back to the phone. He could nearly feel the animosity leeching through the line, hear the grinding of teeth. "Anything else, Chief?"

"Lynch, you better answer the-"

Ronan cut the man off before he could finish his statement, "My name is Lynch-Parrish, not just Lynch. Don't insult my husband by thinking you're familiar enough to just use one of my surnames, Chief." Not waiting for a response, he ended the call, standing from the laps of the pair he was lying across. He left the phone in their laps. "I'm leaving. Don't burn the place down. I'll be back to check tools later."

One of the pair wiggled his brows at him. "Pretty snarky there. Are you going to warm Mr. Lynch-Parrish's bed?"

Ronan blinked at him lethargically. "No, he's sick. I'm going to play nurse maid." He paused at the door, turning back to his airman. "Also, get your own sex life." He slammed the door closed before the phone could be chucked at him.

Adam:

Adam groaned miserably from his rack, a plastic bag tied to the metal rod above him. He hadn't needed it to that point, but his stomach was rolling as much as the ship. From what the others had told him, his fever had already spiked, maintaining its high reading, and he'd already started hallucinating. Who knew sea sickness could cause you to hallucinate? It was like having double dragon, except with less of the involuntary bodily functions.

The last time he'd been checked up on, he'd wished it had been Ronan. No matter what he was sick with, Ronan's presence alone made every bit of it better. Quietly, he resented the fact that they were in berthings only a few compartments over from each other.

Without warning, his curtains flew open. He squinted at the figure shoving him further into his rack, closing the curtains behind him.

He smiled stupidly despite the ache of his body, reaching for the newcomer. "I was just thinking about you, Ronan," he murmured.

Ronan shoved a handful of crackers into his hand, waiting until he obediently, yet reluctantly, swallowed them down, then handed him a bottle of water. "You need to stay hydrated."

"This is really illegal. We've never done _this_ before," Adam whispered, laughter on the edge of his words, "Are you a hallucination?"

"Ask me again when you're fever has broken." Lying down beside him, he pulled Adam into his chest.

Adam fell asleep to the familiar rhythm of Ronan's heart.

Blue:

Blue dragged her eyes open slowly. The boat rocked beneath her, lulling her in and out of sleep. Rain slicked down the cabin door windows, dripping slowly from the drain holes in the drip pan above her, not as hard as earlier in the night. The storm had quieted enormously. Pitch black pressed in at her eyes. No lights in the cabin with her, no lights out on the flight deck. Her radio rested on her breast bone, crackling in and out of life, a heavy weight compared to the wands that were laid across her abdomen.

There was someone approaching the helicopter.

Easy, sloshing steps tapped across the nonskid towards her. A quiet aura was attached to them, mostly grey, kind of a lot of different colors around the edges. It was the quietest she'd heard since learning to turn her mirror on herself, and reflect off the psychics around her. Being on the carrier, there were a million and one citizens, and a larger percentage of them than you might imagine had some splinter of psychic ability, so there was no shortage.

She allowed her eyes to slip closed again, basking in the relief of such a muted aura. There were so many loud, obnoxious auras in their small city that there was always a constant buzz between her ears.

It was nearly silenced now.

The cabin door slid open. The newcomer swore quietly under his breath, stepping back in surprise. "Jane? What are you doing out here by yourself? You're getting dripped on."

Blue blinked up into the dark shadow of Gansey's face. "I should be asking you that. Turnover isn't until shift end. We've still got four more hours to go. How did you know it was me?"

He was silent for a moment, simply staring at her, her staring back, rain dripping onto his flight suit with quiet patters. "I always know when it's you," he murmured, crawling into the cabin beside her and sliding the door closed. He lay down, folding his hands over his stomach, mimicking her position without needing the guiding eye of light. "I've missed you. I lost something fundamental to my being when we all split apart, but most of all when you left."

An unconscious smile pulled at the corners of her lips. "You're so cheesy." She sighed, rolling her head towards him. "But if you must know, I felt the same. These passed two years... they've not been something I want to relive." She stared at him for a long moment, only able to see the outline of his nose, his mouth, his throat. "Why are you out here?"

"We're turning over early. One of the pilots suddenly started puking, and... they were asking a lot of questions I don't have the strength to answer right now."

"What questions?"

"Questions about my mother, how she started out, my childhood. Then it turned to questions of... of Glendower, and... I couldn't. The only four who know the whole story are you four, and I don't particularly enjoy covering up every amazing detail all the time."

Blue turned her head back to the ceiling in time for a water drop to ping against her forehead. She was still for a long moment, blinking away the shock. "We're still looking for the Fountain of Youth, right?"

"Yes, when we pull in to Spain."

"...you know that the Fountain of Youth was never said to be in Spain, right? It was supposedly found in the Caribbean. There is definitely an ocean between those two places."

Gansey laughed good-naturedly. "Yes, I know that, thank you, Blue. Spain is just the first place we're stopping since I've gotten here. I don't think it'll hurt to look for information though. It is where Juan Ponce de Leon came from after all. There's a possibility he left some clue behind."

Blue hummed quietly. She choked, icy cold wrapping around her limbs, her throat. Sitting bolt upright, she scrambled for her cranial. "Get out! Get out! Someone's fallen overboard," she gasped, fumbling for the cabin door in time to hear the ship's horn blast 3 consecutive times, and the 5MC burst to life.

' _Man overboard! Man overboard! This is not a drill! Chargers, get your alert in the air! Launch the alert 15! Man overboard!_ '

Gansey:

"Gooooooooooood morning, Team Shogun!"

Gansey groaned loudly, turning to face the wall as he slammed a pillow over his head. He hated the man, hated the man's voice, hated what he stood for, and Gansey rarely genuinely hated anything. The XO's voice though, that game show host announcer's shout... that was something he could absolutely go without for years and never think back on fondly.

His eyes burned from the long night. It had taken them hours, almost till shift change, to find the sailor. When they ha found them, they were blue in the lips, their limbs stiff with the onset of hypothermia. ' _Thank you_ ,' they had whispered, ' _Thank you_.' Each time his eyes slipped closed, the only thing Gansey could see was they sailor's chest going still, hear his aircrew scrambling frantically to revive him.

The officer above him sobbed comically into the din. "Why can't he just shut up for one day? How have these sailors not jumped overboard yet?" he mewled petulantly, slamming his fist into the covers like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

"Shut up, and just throw a pillow over your head. No one wants to hear his voice," another voice snapped irately, muffled by fabric, possibly a pillow pressed over a face, or the edge of a blanket clenched between grinding teeth. They were silent for a moment, listening to the man go on and on and on about cleaning. He couldn't understand how one person could talk for so long about just putting a broom to a floor. With a twitch of mirth in his voice, the second voice said, "Here's some food for thought. He talks like that normally too. Do you think he talks to his wife in that voice?"

The first voice sobbed a little harder, this time with a genuinely terrified lilt to the noise. The sob cut off quickly with the XO's next words.

"We are due to moore at 1200 hundred due to the seas being dangerous to sail with the storm around Spain, so let's get the ship squared away for a wonderful day in port! XO out!"

The compartment was silent for another long moment, then, "Holy shit, I completely forgot they shifted pull-in to the left. They only told us that this morning... I'm going to the gym. Ya'll can't stop me."

"Such articulate words from an Academy graduate. Wait up for me," the second voice said as the two bodies scrambled from their racks.

Gansey remained in place, pillow still pressed over his face as he thought about that. Port. Spain. The first clue to his next journey. It had been two years since he'd felt something even relatively close to how his search for Glendower always made him feel. Not as frantic, not as life consuming, but just as exciting, just as mysterious and wondrous. Ignoring the fact that he was doing this to prove a point, he was still elated.

He was back together with the people that meant the most to him. They were together, and they were back doing what they did best, searching for impossible things, but also being impossible things all on their own. He'd forgotten about that long ago wonderment. Even their years apart had not made them any less mysterious and odd of creatures, more so even, nd he remembered how much he loved them for just that simple fact alone.

Everything was starting again, and he was ready to receive it.

**Author's Note:**

> If there's any terms that I used throughout the chapter, or chapters to come, that y'all have no clue what it means, just ask me and I'll give you an answer and/or add that definition to the end of the chapter.


End file.
